


never kissed a robot before

by sillyideas



Category: Futurama
Genre: F/M, Kissing, M/M, Swearing, i just wanna smooch a robot leave me be, it's rly short, so much for this being a smut account
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 00:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17570930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillyideas/pseuds/sillyideas
Summary: Oldest kissing trope in the book.





	never kissed a robot before

You’re really not a sports person. You could probably name a thousand things you would rather be doing than sitting in this ridiculously hot and loud blernsball stadium, watching players run around and follow rules you could never be bothered to learn. But hey, your friends dragged you here. And they also paid for your ticket, which might have had something to do with it.

You sit in your sticky plastic seat with your friends to your left. The strangers on your right are another infuriating aspect of this whole setup-- you’re right next to a robot who might as well be blowing his cigar smoke straight into your face from how much of it is hanging around you.

You chat with your friends (you try to, all least, but screaming over the noise of the stadium only communicates so much), daydream, check your eyephone as discreetly as humanly possible, nothing makes the time pass. Really, all you find yourself accomplishing throughout the first hour of so or the game is discovering what a patient person you're capable of being. Okay, maybe patient’s the wrong word, but capable of surviving boredom, at least.

  
You’re zoned out, thinking about your favorite TV show or a book you wanna read or something. I don't know, I don't tell you how to live your life.

Suddenly, your friend jabs you in the back and hisses your name.

“What?”

“Look at the jumbotron, dude…”

Your friends burst out in schadenfreude giggles when you see yourself on the kiss cam. With that obnoxious robot who you don't even know. Fuck.

You look at him nervously. The ginger guy sitting next to him hoots like a frat boy.

The robot places an arm around the back of your seat and looks at you with the most smug expression you've ever seen on anybody, let alone somebody with a face made of metal.

Okay, fuck it. He’s kinda handsome. In a robot way. Yolo, right?

You tentatively place a hand on his, uh, shoulder, and press your lips to where his would be. Robotic hands settle themselves on your hips. The audience screams. Some with anti-robosexual slurs or whatever, but that’s not your problem right now.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull away and look at him, stunned. You see the jumbotron in your peripheral vision and it’s definitely not on you anymore.

“Well… never done that before,” you say awkwardly.

“Eh, I’ve made out with people I’d known for less time than that. Name’s Bender, by the way.”

You reply with your name.

“You’re a good kisser,” he says casually, studying his fingers as if he had fingernails.

You can physically feel how flustered that comment makes you, but you try to stay equally nonchalant with your reply: “Same to you. For someone without lips, I guess.”

“Baby, I’m way better at it than most people _with_ lips. Try kissin’ Fry if you don't believe me.” He points at the ginger guy, who gives you a smile and waves.

“... no thanks.”

“Rather kiss me again, huh?”

Well, he’s not wrong. But boy, are you embarrassed.   
He laughs. “D’aww, you’re all red in the face and nervous. Look like you're dying or something. Hilarious.”

An odd confidence hits you, and a need to make Bender quit acting so cocky, and you plant a quick kiss on his mouth again. You smirk at the surprised robot as you settle back into your seat.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh?”

Dammit, you don't have any time to enjoy seeing him embarrassed; he’s already acting all chill again. “Was better the first time,” he observes, crossing his legs and looking the other way.

You feel cold metal fingers place something in your hand. You look down to see a scrap of paper with a phone number written on it.

 


End file.
